The Rhythm Of Breathing
by Soncnica
Summary: Wee!chesters, Sam is 10 and Dean is 14. One rainy night and all Sam needed was to breathe…and Dean knew that.


**This is my firs attempt on a Wee!chester fic. Be gentle, **_hides in the corner. _**Sam is 10 and Dean is 14 and I know this subject has already been written about but, well you have to start somewhere, right? I own nothing**,_crap, _**but yeah the mistakes are all mine**_, crap. _**I do have 2 more Wee!chester stories in my mind, but I'm not sure if I'm any good at this. But well…**

…**enjoy, please.  
**

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Every story has a beginning, and Dean's started with a late night summer storm, his Dad snoring on the couch and Sam tossing and turning on the bed next to his.

"Sammy stop," his voice was sleepy and whiny, "go to sleep." He slowly raised himself on his elbows and looked at Sam through sleepy eyes and orange room.

His brother was all limbs tangled in a crappy yellow cover, which would have made a great curtain but definitely not a blanket.

A thunder roared through the room, settling heavily in Dean's chest. It made his heart stop for a second giving him an opportunity to listen to any sounds that would come from Sam. He waited and listened. He heard a whimper and a sigh as his brother settled himself on his side, his closed eyes on Dean, and when the lightning illuminated the room again, he saw Sam's hair plastered on his forehead and he was sure Sam was sweating buckets.

He knew Sam was far from being asleep, tossing and turning, sweating and moaning into the pillow. He listened to all of the sounds that defined his brother's sleepless night…heavy breathing, sighing, whimpering and gripping the bed sheets with all the force his little hands possessed.

Looking through the window and seeing that the storm won't pass quickly enough to let Sam sleep, he did the only thing he could, the only thing he knew would work in a situation like this…he breathed. In and out, in and out, slow and awkward at first as he found himself short of oxygen, but soon found a rhythm that suited him.

He laid down on the bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling with his left hand near his heart and his right one by his side. Near to his brother.

He ignored Dad's breathing, he ignored Sam's sharp raged one and just breathed for himself…for Sam. He hoped the kid would find his breath, tucked it in his lungs and breathed with him. It was all he had to give to Sam, to make the deafening thunders stop.

_Breathe Sammy, come on, _he thought to himself as he listened to Sam's quick pace of breathing almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

Sam shut his eyes close, shut them so fast and with such intensity, he almost heard the clash of his eyebrows. He wanted all to stop, he wanted the thunder to stop, he wanted the lightning to stop, and he wanted the rain to stop. Just stop. His ears were hurting, his chest was about to explode, his mind was coming up with things, horrible things, nasty things. Just stop.

The rain drops were huge and Sam could have sworn he could count them, when they hit the roof of the motel, if he would put his mind to it. But he couldn't. He couldn't ignore the thunders, the loud explosive sound that buried itself deep in his chest and never let go. He couldn't get pass that.

Another lightning went straight to his eyes and a thunder. A loud one, a close one, it shook the motel…it shook Sam to his core.

"Sammy, stop," his brothers voice, a different thunder to replace the one in his chest, "go to sleep."

He chased his brother's voice, tried to get more, tried to tell Dean off, for calling him Sammy, tried to get something that would make the loud noises go away. But he couldn't, because Dean said nothing more after that. It was like he left him, abandoned him, made him alone with the noises and lightning again.

He turned around, to watch Dean through half open eyes, just enough that Dean would think his eyes were closed. He left out a whimper, when the thunder vibrated through him again, making his blood freeze and his heart stop beating. Just for a second and it was enough for him to hear a sound. A soft sound, a different kind of sound, a sound that wasn't his Dad's snoring, that wasn't the rain drops falling heavily on the rooftop, that wasn't thunder, that wasn't lightning, that wasn't the wind, trying to blow away the motel…but was just air. It was almost a balm to cover his aching chest, when fear settled in. Easy flow of air going in and out of someone's lungs. Dean.

He closed his eyes, and listened. Through all the other noises; a car going by, two lovers having a quarrel, a wending machine popping out a candy bar, someone fetching ice, a door slamming shut; he heard his brothers breathing. Not even the wind was strong enough to overcome that smooth sound of Deans breathing.

The soft hum, the gentle lullaby, the in and out sound, the whisper of air as it passed through Dean's nose was all he heard. All he wanted to hear.

Dean's hand was rising up and down on his chest, his heart pounding softly under his skin and bones, but he could still feel it all. Every breath, every heartbeat in unison with the rain. As one rain drop hit the roof, he inhaled when the next one hit, he exhaled. A steady rhythm he held with the weather, a rhythm for Sam to follow.

_Breathe Sammy, come on… _

His hand clutched the blanket; the sweat was still rolling off of him, tickling him as it made its way down his spine, settling on the waste band of his pajama. He shivered when the cold air from outside finally made its grand entrance, right beneath his blanket.

He turned around, to lay on his back, his right hand near his heart, his left one by his side. Near to his brother.

He felt his heartbeat, wondered if Dean's was the same as his, felt his chest expand and decrease with each breath he took, knew he was breathing the same air in the same order as his brother.

With time they both started to breathe in a rhythm that relaxed them both. Just simple in and out, a brush of air, in and out.

If Dean had trouble starting the rhythm, Sam had no problem with keeping up. He trusted Dean to make a rhythm that would be calming and safe. Nice and slow, for no one to hear but him, and for no one to make but Dean.

A lightning struck, illuminating both of them, and they breathed.

A thunder resonated through the room and they breathed.

A baby started to cry, and they breathed.

A man walked by with heavy boots, and they breathed.

A dog barked, and they breathed.

The sun came up, and they slept.

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**The End**


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